


Nomenclature

by inksheddings



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-15
Updated: 2009-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/pseuds/inksheddings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's in a name?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nomenclature

His mother always called him Leonard. She'd call out to him at suppertime, and all he'd have to hear was that first syllable, _"Leeeon-"_ and he'd be running toward the front porch, because he'd learned early not to dawdle when his mother called.

His dad had a habit of calling him... Lenny. Which he'd never liked. Even as a child he thought it sounded condescending and, well, childish. Not that his father ever treated him that way, not once. Truth be told, when he turned ten and his father wished him well with a , _"Happy birthday, Lenny,"_ in front of his friends– who called him all sorts of things, but never that –he glanced up at him with embarrassed eyes before looking away quickly and, somehow, his dad just _got_ it. He never called him Lenny again.

In medical school he was McCoy. Even his buddies called him that, not that he had dozens of friends. Between studying and then residency, he didn't have a lot of time for carousing, though he did manage to fit in the occasional stress-relieving guys' night out. He's not sure he actually heard his given name for years, during that time of his life, and sometimes he forgot to use his full name when introducing himself. When people started calling him _Doctor_ McCoy, however, the flush of pride he felt was almost as embarrassing as his father's use of Lenny. Almost.

He tried not to think about what his ex called him, before or after things went so terribly wrong. He certainly didn't dwell on the way his heart used to swell with fierce love when his daughter called him, "Daddy."

The first time James Tiberius Kirk called him "Bones," he didn't pay it much mind. The second time, he rolled his eyes. The third, he grit his teeth in exasperation. Yet, as it became commonplace enough that he probably should have told Jim that the joke was far past old and moving on toward decrepit, he didn't say a word. No one else called him that, no one else had _ever_ called him that, and the cheerful– hell, _affectionate_ –way it rolled off Jim's tongue– well, the exasperation didn't last long.

Jim didn't always say it with good humor. The night he found his friend reading Captain Pike's dissertation on his father, Captain George Kirk, for the umpteenth time, his brokenly uttered, "Bones...." was all it took for him to take the PADD out of Jim's hands and replace it with a double shot of whiskey.

It was that particular occasion that made him realize how thoroughly ingrained the name had become, not only in his mind but his body– blood, guts, _bones_. Whether Jim was shouting it in anger or laughing it out over a few beers, the sound of it rang true. Like his mother calling him in for supper, Bones came home when Jim called his name.

"Bones...." Jim whispered in his ear just before eagerly licking a line from lobe to Adam's apple. Bones felt the utterance as keenly as he felt Jim's tongue, his hands, and those skinny legs wrapped around his waist. It should scare him, he was certain it should. But as Jim opened his body and let him in with a firm upward thrust and a needy kiss, Bones knew damn well that he wasn't the only one finding his home between the words and the touches, and neither was he the only one who'd been named by their acquaintance.

While he might never argue the point with Jim, especially not at a time like this, Bones is certain that Shakespeare got it dead wrong. What's in a name?

"Ahh, yeah, _Bones_...."

Everything.

  
 **end**   



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